


Pretty In-Tents

by vibe_check



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Camping, F/M, Sharing a Bed, frankly this could be read as platonic just as easily, goemon's stubborn but what's new?, its ok i'm not cishet so i can write GOOD m/f romance /j, tent sharing specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibe_check/pseuds/vibe_check
Summary: Despite the chill of the mountain night, Goemon insists on camping outside. Like Fujiko would settle for that.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Pretty In-Tents

**Author's Note:**

> Remember the other story I mentioned in the Masquerade story, the one I said was done? Well, I guess I myself didn't remember, because I only just got to editing it. BUT HERE IT IS! I think there's a lot of potential with these two to be honest, but I'd never made anything for them before so... Here's this! Hope this brings a little joy to your quarantine experience, and remember: wear a mask!

Cool night air rustled Fujiko’s tent. Her sleeping bag was musty and stiff, and her pillow was only slightly preferable to the bumpy ground below, but it would all be worth it soon. She could just smell the cash she’d be swimming in as soon as they sold that rusty old shield. For the time being, though, it was less than pleasant. She thought maybe next errand it’d be time to invest in a thicker blanket under the bag to ease out the rocks and hills that seemed to line up perfectly to cause her discomfort, jutting into her like boney elbows and kneecaps. An all-too-familiar sensation in Lupin’s itty bitty car, and not one she was keen on repeating during her beauty sleep.

Fujiko turned for what felt like the hundredth time that night, sighing loudly. At least she had a tent to herself this time around. If she’d been stuck sharing this already less-than-great spot with anyone else, she probably would’ve snapped and strangled them on sight. It was annoying enough by itself, but it could always be worse. 

She sat up, making a fuss without anyone to witness it. Her hair stuck up in 5 different directions in the back, tussled from the constant turning. She needed to sleep, or she’d… Well, she’d still be able to pull off that job, but she’d sure be crankier than usual. And she would let the other three know it was entirely their fault for making her set up her tent last. 

Though, again, it could be worse. From her understanding, Goemon wasn’t even in a tent. She thought back to when they’d each retired for the night, and while Lupin and Jigen trotted off to a tent practically identical to hers, Goemon stayed by the fire. 

He had to know it wouldn’t last all night. It wasn’t too chilly when they’d left, but the sun hadn’t fully set yet, either. They were tired! They didn’t want to wait for it to get dark and cold. If she thought about it long enough, Fujiko figured it made sense. Goemon was always testing his physical limits in almost dangerously stupid ways. Could you imagine? A legendary samurai’s descendant, wielding the strongest sword known to man, a part of a group of thieves known untouchable… Dead from hypothermia he could have prevented. 

It was pitiful. Even though Goemon had endured worse environments than this, it felt stupid to let him get sick when there was room in-- What was she thinking? This wasn’t a time for misplaced compassion. She had to focus on resting up. 

She sat in silence, staring at the seam of her tent. 

Fujiko swore she’d beat herself up for it later, but for now, she stood, tying the string of her sweatpants tighter with a glare directed at nobody. She unzipped the door and ducked under the entrance. 

The cold wasn’t the worst she’d been met with, but it was enough to bring her hands to her arms in a feeble attempt to keep warm. She realized offhandedly how dismissive she’d been tonight of things she’d normally raise hell over just for the fun of it. Still, she had a goal, and briefly looked around out there. As expected, Goemon was sitting by the dull remnants of the fire. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Of course. He had to be freezing, and that was without mentioning how half his chest was exposed, per the norm. 

As she came closer, she heard a quiet clicking noise, almost like tapping, but too fast. “Goemon?” He turned carefully, and Fujiko almost dragged him in by the sight of him alone. His face was like chalk, and his nails were beginning to turn purple. That strange clicking noise turned out to be the chatter of Goemon’s teeth, a noise he was trying to silence by fighting it. 

“Oh God, Goemon!” she scolded. “This bad?”

“It is nothing to worry about,” he said dismissively. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s something to worry about,” she bit back. With a softer tone, she offered a hand. “Goemon, come on. Please. It’s not that I doubt you, I just would rather not haul around a samurai-cicle.”

Goemon frowned, casting a glance aside. He was really thinking about it. He took her hand and she helped him up with a pull. They made their way back to the (comparatively) warm interior of the tent. Anything really was better than the wind and cold. 

Once inside, Goemon was still chattering. Fujiko made a sour face. “Well, that didn’t help.”

“I will warm once I sleep.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, sweetie.” Fujiko unzipped the sleepingbag resting in the center all the way, folding it out flat. “Here, room for two.”

She should’ve expected it honestly, but was still taken aback when the pale of his frozen face was replaced with a soft pink. He held out a hand in a stopping gesture, shaking his head. “No. I can manage on my own.”

Fujiko felt the snark working it’s way onto her face. “And that’s why you were alone outside, freezing like a stray cat?”

Goemon made a strained noise of surprise at the snappy remark. “It’s not-- That’s--”

“I can’t have you getting sick. You have a blanket in your pack, don’t you? Why didn’t you take this out?” As she spoke, she was already digging around through the small bag he’d packed and pulled out the mentioned blanket. She handed it to him, gasping when his hands touched hers. “Damn, these are ice!”

Fujiko pulled him towards the makeshift mat, and dragging him down as she sat. “Between this and the one I have, it shouldn’t take long.” 

“Why are you doing this?”

His tone wasn’t malicious, in fact, it was more genuine confusion, but it shocked her regardless. “It… I don’t know. I told you, I don’t want you to be frozen solid when I wake up tomorrow. Is that enough of an answer for you?”

Goemon was satisfied. At least, a little bit. Enough to take the blanket from his own hands and wrap it around his shoulders. 

Fujiko sighed, a hint of a smile breaking through. “I love the change in attitude, but it’ll take more than that.” She sat beside him, taking his hands in hers. “A good chunk of your body heat eminates from your hands, feet, and head, so stick your legs under my blanket.” He did as he was told.

Now that the initial shock of seeing him blue as the sky was over, Fujiko noticed just how tired Goemon looked as well. His eyes were dull, and his posture sunk. It was unlike him. She hadn’t been there the first few nights they were planning, and had only arrived today. Had he been missing out on sleep? Rather than voice a concern, she went straight for the kill. “You look horrible.”

Goemon drew his head up to look at her, obviously offended, but too preoccupied to fight over it. “You are acute as ever.”

“Thank you,” she laughed. She focused on one hand now, rubbing it with her palms until his fingers were no longer red and his nails were no longer blue. She moved to the other one as his eyes began to close. “Better?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” She dropped the hand.

“If I keep letting you and the others coddle me like this, I’ll--”

“Live past 35. I think it’d be more effective training if you built up to it.”

Goemon was bitter, but considered the thought. “I feel warmer, if that was your intention.”

“It was.” Her voice was softer, gentler than she normally would like. “Lay down.”

She could almost visualize the question mark above his head as he looked at her blankly. A quick warning glare, and once more he listened. She settled down against her pillow, following his suit. 

Without saying a word, Fujiko placed her hand on top of Goemon’s hair. “What--”

“I said the hands and feet eminated the most heat, ALONG WITH the top of your head. That’s why they make winter hats.”

“No I-- Yes, I remember that part. So, why not offer me a hat?”

Fujiko ran her fingers through his hair. What did he use to condition? Seriously. “I don’t have any. Wasn’t expecting it to be so cold,” she lied. 

There was a brief moment of silence. Fujiko’s fingers hung in the air, his hair dangling between them. They looked at each other in silence. 

“Is it uncomfortable? I can stop.”

Going against everything he’d expressed thus far, Goemon shook his head fiercely with wide eyes. “No, no, you may keep going.”

Fujiko grinned. “‘May.’ You tend to forget what year it is, don’t you, darling?”

He snorted back, “As if you remember.”

“I do so know! It’s 19--”

“Incorrect.”

“My point stands!” she argued. 

Fujiko had not only lost track of the date, but the time as well. She kept playing with Goemon’s hair, but as long as he didn’t mind, who was it hurting? It seemed to be doing him good anyway, as he slowly relaxed more and more. 

Despite being tired, cranky, and every other annoyed emotion under the sun, neither one seemed bent on getting sleep. This alone was rest enough. 

Maybe Goemon had been getting enough sleep. Maybe, instead of being physically tired as she’d imagined, he just needed a breather like this. Leave it to him to work himself up past a point of no return. How lucky was he to have her around?

In a movement undoubtedly intentional, Goemon shifted closer to Fujiko, still pointedly keeping his hands balled up near his chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just trying to get comfortable.” Sure, Goemon.

“You know you’re allowed to dote on me, too.”

“I have done enough of that in our time together.” His hands twitched. She noticed. Not just the action, but the weight behind his words. She decided not to dwell on their past experiences together, not now. 

“Is this another self-restraint thing, or are your hands still cold?”

His stiff reaction melted into a pathetic one. “A bit cold. I can survive it.”

Fujiko took her hand out of his hair and brought it to his waist. “Yeah, I’ll believe that.” 

With only minimal prompting, Goemon did the same, bringing his face to the crook of her shoulder. “Your nose is still cold.”

She felt an honest smile press against her shirt, followed by a tiny sigh from Goemon. He held her tighter, his strong grip only softened by the kind intention behind it. “Give it some time.” 


End file.
